


we waited for land

by laricina



Series: the ocean is holding all the kings [3]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laricina/pseuds/laricina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after coming across the Flying Dutchman, Jack runs (quite literally) into Elizabeth in Port Antonio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we waited for land

**Author's Note:**

> Set Post-OST, and takes place a few months after the second part in this series. Although this work could technically stand alone, I suspect it will be more meaningful after having read the first two parts.
> 
> Many thanks to my sister for reading this over and encouraging me; this probably would never have been posted without her.

Two months spent with a free schedule on open water followed by weeks of an even freer schedule in Tortuga seemed to have improved Barbossa’s mood considerably. When Jack and Gibbs finally tracked him down, carrying Will’s knowledge of Blackbeard’s curses, an old canvas bag full of ships, and a plethora of potential blackmail, Barbossa had laughed openly at Jack’s desperation for days before cheerfully trading him the _Black Pearl_ for the rest of the fleet in the bag.

Barbossa had been understandably disbelieving when Jack had assured him he had no use for an entire fleet. Barbossa then, of course, found it necessary to suggest Jack choose a bottle for safe-keeping in preparation for the inevitable time he’d lose the _Pearl_ again. Jack hadn’t taken too kindly to that suggestion, she he’d still ended up with the entire fleet, even after Gibbs had more gently suggested to Jack that having a spare is never a poor idea.

Once the _Black Pearl_ was restored, Jack found he had no desire to remain on land, itching to reacquaint himself with his ship. The same could not be said for some of the crew, after they had dealt with numerous squalls on their pursuit of Barbossa. Jack compromised by setting sail for Port Antonio, far enough away from Port Royale that he felt comfortable docking there for a day or two to replenish supplies.

Many weeks had passed without any notable occurrences before Jamaica had come into their sight. Jack found that this suited him just fine. A pirate’s life, especially the life of a pirate like Jack Sparrow, did not include stability as a general rule. The piracy and fleeing from the government notwithstanding, the ocean had no room for such things, preferring to keep those who dared to travel among her on their toes. Jack knew this, and loved it, even, but found there was a stability that came with the _Black Pearl_ that he doubted he would ever be able to find elsewhere. Jack spent those weeks personally tending to the rips in the sails, overseeing the daily cleaning of the decks with constant commentary that his crew knew came from his love for the ship, remaining awake into the night to catalog the stories she carried that he had missed with his hands.

When they finally reached Jamaica, Jack found he had little desire to be on land at all, but he did not break promises to his crew, and so he gave the crew almost a full two days onshore. Thankfully, these two days passed without incident. Jack did not venture off the ship for more than a collective day, but he did find himself on land for a few hours before the crew began to head back towards the _Pearl_.

It was just as they had been readying themselves to sail again that Jack ran, quite literally, into Elizabeth.

~

Satisfied with the few purchases she had made in the market, Elizabeth fastened her satchel around herself as she walked. She paid less attention than strictly necessary to her feet, and her first thought after she had collided with another person on the path was that she shouldn’t be surprised.

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” she apologized profusely, immediately moving to stand. She turned to face the person she had collided with and almost dropped the bag she was carrying in shock.

“Jack?!”

“Captain Swann,” Jack drawled with a grin as he absently brushed himself off from the collision. “Suppose it’s Captain Turner now, aye?”

Elizabeth eyed him with no small bit of suspicion. “It’s neither, clearly. What are you doing here?”

“Any port in a storm, aye?” Jack quipped, even as Elizabeth pointedly glanced at the sun shining bright in the cloudless sky. “Could pose the same question to you.”

“You could,” Elizabeth conceded, “but this is still Jamaica and unlike you, I don’t have a bounty over my head.”

“Seems wrong, that,” Jack replied, and then waved his hand dramatically. “’ve had a bounty over me head for years; never stopped me before.”

She rolled her eyes before replying, “Don’t pretend you aren’t happier on the run anyway, Jack.”

Jack shrugged, as if to say, _Pirate_ , and continued, “Suppose this is where I should be telling ye I know you’re happier here, but somehow I doubt that, Mrs. Turner.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Elizabeth retorted, “And what exactly do you mean by that? Port Royale felt stifling to me even before I became mixed up with pirates. This isn’t the first time I’ve snuck off, you know.”

“So why here then, if I may ask?”

She shrugged. “A childhood friend of mine lives here. Thought it was as good a time as any for a visit.”

Jack grinned. “Any port in a storm, then?”

“Jack.”

“Always did have a yearnin’ for adventure,” Jack continued approvingly, “more than the whelp did, even. Always liked you for a reason, you know.”

She smirked at him, adjusting the satchel over her hip. “You can’t take the forbidden pirate stories out of the little girl, I suppose.” She briefly glanced at Jack, who didn’t look like he was even paying attention to her, but Elizabeth knew better.

“My father was right, however. Pirates are nothing but trouble.”

“Hope you’re including yourself in that statement.” 

Elizabeth wasn’t sure if he was referring to anything specific – which would be within his right – or if it was just a blanket statement, but she supposed it was true, regardless. “Of course. I was a Pirate Lord, after all.”

“Reckon ye still are, lass. I’d be careful what ye assume ‘bout that, savvy? Calypso isn’t taking too kindly to Pirate Lords who abandon their posts as of late.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she assured him, and then narrowed her eyes. “There’s a story here, isn’t there?”

“There always is.”

Where Jack Sparrow was concerned, that much was usually true. “Well, come on then,” she prodded, “Out with it.”

“Now, Mrs. Turner,” Jack grinned, “You’ve never been particularly receptive to my stories.”

“Humor the pirate in me, then.”

Jack looked at her imploringly.

“If ye desire to humor the pirate in ye, could always come back to the sea, lass.”

Elizabeth sighed, and looked away from him. It was strange for her to see Jack again. She had never really separated the Jack Sparrow who was, strangely enough, her friend, from the Jack Sparrow she had killed without a second thought. She had always meant to speak with him more, until Will had been stabbed, and the rest after that had become another story.

“I considered it,” she answered him, honestly.

Jack stared at her, waiting, she supposed, for her to finish the sentence. She didn’t. 

“And?” He prompted.

“I decided,” she began, slowly, as if she intended to drag it out just to bother Jack, “that I didn’t want to raise a child that way.”

Jack choked. “Excuse me?”

Elizabeth sighed. “He’s Will’s, before you ask.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Jack lied, but looks a little relieved, anyway. He gestured to her. “When did that happen?”

“… Jack.”

“Right, right. So where is this child, then?”

“My friend is babysitting him. On my way back there now, actually.”

“A ladd, aye? What’s his name?”

“…Will.”

Jack, to his credit, didn’t say a single thing about that. “Will doesn’t know about him.” It’s a statement, more than question.

“Well of course not,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, “It’s a little difficult to get news to anyone on a ship, let alone when you have no idea where that ship is at any given time.”

“Sometimes I think he doesn’t know where he is ‘imself, as it were.”

Elizabeth looked at him sharply. “You’ve seen him?”

“Few months ago. Related to that story about the Pirate Lords, as it were.”

Looking at the bustling market around them, Jack still out in the open, she tilted her head towards Jack with purpose. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Now ‘Lizabeth,” Jack sneered, even as he began to follow her, “how many times do I need to tell ye it isn’t going to work out between us? Nice as that little death kiss ye gave me was-”

“I would smack you,” Elizabeth interrupted, cheerfully, “but I do actually want information from you. Come on.”

She led him just past the harbor, to a small, unused beach under an outcropping she had found on her first night visiting. She had sat out on the rocks with young Will and sang to him absently as she had let herself get lost watching the sea.

She sat carefully on the same group of rocks near the water and didn’t look to see where Jack sat himself.

“Couldn’t have gone to a tavern or something, lass?” Jack griped as he sat next to her, “Stories always better with rum.”

“ _Nothing’s_ better with rum,” Elizabeth insisted, just to annoy him, “And don’t push your luck.”

Jack pouted at her, but pointedly pulled the flask from his hip and drank from it. He drank half the flask before he spoke, telling her what was likely a largely exaggerated story of Blackbeard and the Fountain of Youth.

“Ah,” Elizabeth remarked eventually, “That would be why Pirate Lords shouldn’t be abandoning their posts.”

Jack drank from the flask again in response.

“Where did you see Will? When?”

“Don’t waste any time, I see.”

“Jack.” She suspected she came off more desperate than she would have liked.

“Somewhere off the coast of Haiti. Gibbs and I got ourselves caught in a bit of a spittin’; Captain Turner was there ferrying souls.” As if he could be doing anything else.

“How…” Elizabeth swallowed. “How was he?”

Jack gave her a strange look in response. “Still ‘imself, if that’s what you mean.”

“And he’s been…” she paused. “He’s been… doing his duties?”

“Boy always does his jobs. You know that.”  
`  
Elizabeth did know that. She sighed in relief anyway. “I had to know.”

“He asked about you,” Jack told her, “not that I had any information to give him.”

She smiled, but did not reply. She was happy to hear that someone had seen her husband, was happy to know that he had asked about her, not that she ever doubted that the man who had been happy with his simple, quiet life and then became mixed up with pirates and war for her would ask about her when given the chance. 

They fell silent for long enough to lose track of the time, the only sounds the waves lapping at the sand. When she finally spoke again, Elizabeth’s gaze was fixed on the sea.

“I never asked you why you did it.”

“Did what?”

Elizabeth snorted. “Don’t play dumb, Jack.”

Jack Sparrow acted on impulse and self-preservation as a general rule. Sometimes, he did what he wanted. Sometimes, he didn’t. Giving Will a chance at – more time, he supposed – was what he had wanted. 

“Suppose I had the chance to do the right thing, and just leave it at that, savvy?”

Elizabeth remembered the conversation he referred to, but refused to bite on the attempt to end the conversation. “Fair,” she admitted, “but there was more to it than that, wasn’t there?”

Jack spared a brief glance at her before redirecting his attention. “How do ye figure?”

“It’s not like you had the time to think about that decision, Jack.”

“That’s explanation enough, i’n’t it?”

Elizabeth supposed it was, and she wasn’t sure what more to say to that, really. Sometimes – perhaps in only specific ways – she wondered if Jack was a better person than she. Jack had saved Will’s life without a second thought, the way that she had ended his. Of course, she had been trying to protect herself, and Will, when she had done it, not that she believed her actions were particularly excusable. She hadn’t even wanted to risk finding Jack again, when Tia Dalma had suggested it. She can cut her losses, whereas Jack simply never accepts loss. 

She wondered, anyway, what Jack had been trying to protect when he’d saved Will’s life, but she doesn’t think she’s allowed to ask.

“Thank you.”

Jack spared her another glance. “Not sure you should be thanking me, lass.”

“Well, I am. Once in ten years is better than nothing at all.”

Jack went to take another drink from the flask, and dramatically pouted when he found it empty. “Suppose that’s the better way to look at it. Not much of a life.”

Elizabeth tilted her head. “But it’s one you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Seems to me William and I have different values. I want the sea, lass. Will’s always wanted more than that.”

“I wouldn’t say more,” Elizabeth amended, “Different, sure. But he’s always been a simple guy, and he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.” She paused. “You thought he would be angry with you?”

Jack didn’t respond, which as much of an answer as anything.

“Will knows you meant well.”

“Said as much ‘imself. ” 

“I would ask you to watch over him,” she continued, “but his duties will make that hard, I suppose.”

Jack shook his head; he thought of the way Will had handled Blackbeard, thought of the way he had spoken to his crew. “Don’t think he needs any watchin’ over anyway.”

“We both know that isn’t true.”

“Even if that were the case,” Jack continued, “I wouldn’t be trusting me with the whelps’ well-being if I were you.”

“See, here’s the thing, Jack – you don’t fool me. You never did. I won’t pretend that any of us weren’t simply acting within our own best interests, but I know you never wanted him dead.”

“Being alive’s different than being well.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Deflect all you want – I know you care about him, and the fact still remains that he would be dead if it weren’t for you. Just because he is no longer physically alive doesn’t mean he can’t feel alive. I know he’ll make the best of it. He always does.”

Rather than respond, Jack pulled a crinkled, folded letter from a pocket inside his jacket. “He asked me to give you this.”

Clearly not expecting any communication from Will at all, Elizabeth found herself taken aback. She was only marginally successful in holding back her tears as she read the letter and didn’t miss Jack’s attempts to give her privacy. Although she tried not to let her emotions into her voice when she spoke again, she doubted she was successful. 

“Will you… can I write you a response?”

“Can’t guarantee when I will come across him again, but I will make sure he sees it.”

Jack remained silent until Elizabeth finished. He watched her remove a crinkled photograph of a child who must be their son from her bag and fold it into the letter. 

“Was going to ask if ye planned on telling him about the ladd.”

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s Will’s _son_ , Jack.”

“Will’s accepted the job. Suppose this will make it harder on him.”

“He’d be angrier if he’d had the chance to find out and no one told him,” she insisted. “I didn’t think I was going to have the chance until our ten years are up, but…” she handed the letter to Jack then, almost reluctantly. “I’m going to ask you not to read this, but I know you will anyway.”

Jack laughed freely at that.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile, and was surprised to note the regret in her tone when she spoke. “My friend… she’s lived here isolated, most of her life. She’s never been a fan of pirates, and she doesn’t, amazingly, really know everything of what happened. Not my involvement in it, at least. I told her that Will’s off on assignment in America. I wouldn’t have come here, but…” She trailed off. “Anyway. My point is. I would have liked for you to meet him, you know.”

“Don’t say that so soon,” Jack told her in response, “There’s still time, after all.”

By now, Elizabeth supposed she’d never really be free of Jack Sparrow, but she doesn’t mind much.

~

They walked leisurely back to the harbor. For all his gruffing about wanting to get on the water, Jack didn’t appear to be in much of a hurry.

“Where are you off to now, Jack?”

“Wherever the wind takes me, lass.”

Elizabeth swallowed around the lump in her throat.

“You and the boy could come, aye? Gibbs gripes about children aboard, but he likes ‘em, just the same.”

Elizabeth snorted, but her face softened. “You and I never really sailed together well, Jack. I don’t listen to you.”

“Neither does anyone else,” he muttered, “don’t see the difference it would make.”

“Little Will is too young, I think,” she said, almost regrettably.

“No such thing as too young a pirate, ‘Lizabeth!”

The response that her son isn’t a pirate was on the tip of her tongue – but then she stopped to think about that.

“Thank you – really, but no.”

Jack waved it off, but then asked, “So, you’re going to stay in Port Royale and… do what, exactly, until William is done with his” he wiggled his fingers, “duties?”

Elizabeth didn’t know.

~

For reasons she doesn’t quite understand, Elizabeth saw Jack off, and was pleasantly surprised to notice that she recognized a good number of the crew. Jack’s never been one for drawn-out goodbyes, and neither had she, for that matter, and so he merely nods to her as he began boarding the _Pearl_.

“You come find ‘ol Jack if ye change your mind about, the ladd, aye? Uncle Jack knows a thing or two about teaching a ladd to sail.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. She can teach her son to sail herself; had already spent many nights planning when she’ll start teaching him, and where they will go, once he is old enough to understand. She’d entertained what were likely foolish ideas of finding Will before his ten years are up. She’d thought of finding Anamaria, of leading her own crew, of seeing things she knows she never will on land.

She did not say any of this to Jack. She was unsure why she wanted Jack to have this one, but she did, all the same.

“Sure, Jack,” she told him simply, and he waved dramatically at her just before he jumped on the deck.

~

Elizabeth lingered on the shore, watching the _Black Pearl_ , until it had sailed out of sight, leaving only waves in its wake, and told herself that she wasn’t envious. She had never been envious of _Jack_ , exactly. She had always been a little envious, perhaps, of the freedom he enjoys, despite the trials of a pirate life, and as the days continued to pass she found herself envious of anyone who had a chance of seeing Will, foolish as that probably was.

There are times she wishes she had never been captain of that ship, even for a short time. The knowledge of what it felt like to have the wind brushing the sails, the cool breezes touching her skin, the freedom of a vast and unforgiving ocean, left a taste in her mouth that was bitter and lonely. Pirate blood in Will or not, she had always been the one of them who really loved the ocean, and she found herself wondering if she would be able to convince Will to sail with her and their son after his time is up. Will had never had much in Port Royale, after all. He’d had his forge, but he could have that anywhere, and Elizabeth had never felt particularly connected to her home there, except for her father and Will.

She can’t say that she regretted any of the decisions she’d made in the past, particularly those that had led to more time with her husband and her son’s life. She will, she thinks, regret the life she had been building for them now in Will’s absence. 

Elizabeth goes after what she wants. She has never lingered and allowed bitterness and regret to stew. She had never wanted that for herself, and she doesn’t want her son to grow up with a mother who was always living in another world. She doesn’t want Will to find her angry, after everything they have gone through.

She patted the navigational charts she had recently purchased, placed carefully in her satchel, with purpose. She can plan, she thought, and find a ship when Will Jr. is old enough. Land had barely held her before she had gotten herself involved with pirates; there was no reason to think it would do any better now.

That night, as she rocked her son to sleep, she told him the story of the _Black Pearl_ and a chest of cursed gold. When he grew up, he would know that story even when he knew nothing else.


End file.
